


Coffee

by Lelline



Series: Hot drinks and cold killers [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, Jack Feels, Jack Pattillo POV, Jack the Barista, Jack's beard, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Now has a sequel, coffeehouse AU, geoff likes guys that look like santa, geoff pov, mentioned underage, rusty writer without spellcheck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lelline/pseuds/Lelline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack's arm reads more like a list of drinks than soulmarks.<br/>He figures that's why he can't seem to meet any of them.<br/>(Finished and has a 50,000+ word sequel :D.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this due to a plotbunny and a severe need for more Jack centric stories. Especially since while everyone seems to question 'weak little' Gavin being in the AH Crew, no one questions big ol' teddybear Jack (Who no one even writes as a badass).  
> I may write more, may not. I would appreciate a Beta.

Jack had been young and stupid when the first of his soulmarks had appeared.  
He had been delighted, rushing home from grade 1 with his arm held above his head. He'd been afraid that it was just a joke, that it had been one of the other kids scribbling on his arm. But as he raced up to his mother. She had grinned, tracing the words and then getting nail polish remover, trying halfheartedly to remove them before confirming to him that they were real.  
The words were right over his wrist, wrapped around it like a brand. He would constantly trace them, constantly say them outloud. His mother gave him a wristband, told him to constantly cover them. Still, as a child who didn't care about decency, he constantly was saying the words, constantly showing them to any of his friends who asked.  
Many of the other kids had them as well, and he'd seen plenty. One even had a 'Hi, my name is Robin', and at the time he knew how lucky that was, but he didn't envy them. He would meet his soulmate soon enough and they would be everything he ever wanted. Even if they had used a bad word.  
The second mark came during the summer, while they were on vacation. This time his mother had tried both nail polish remover and rubbing alcohol before confirming it was real. It wasn't that uncommon to have two mates, some even had three, but his mother had frowned at the words on his wrist and he hadn't understood why at first. He had spent a year playing out scenarios with his toys, usually with his soulmate being GI Joe and him being Optimus Prime, though once he'd used a barbie instead of GI Joe. He hadn't liked that though, hadn't liked the idea of his soulmate being something as boring as a barbie. They would be a soldier, or a superhero or a rockstar. He would be something the same, and they'd say 'I need a goddamn coffee' as they finished defeating shredder.  
"Why are they both about coffee?" He asked, a little puzzled at the revealation.  
"It just means you'll work in a cafe someday." She had tried to say softly. "You'll meet them at your work."  
He'd been in cafes before. He had never really liked it in there, the baked sweets were good but he had never liked hot drinks, and they were always quiet and strange inside, like a library. They were dark and cosy and he had stood outside of it last time, his mother chuckling and letting him stay by the window as she got her caffiene fix.  
The second words though were an order, 'Three coffees and two hot chocolates.'  
He shook off the uneasy feeling he'd gotten the next morning, reasoning to himself that his secret identity would work in a cafe as his day job. He'd still be a cop or a secret agent or help aliens, but he'd just have a boring job as a cover.  
Two weeks later, another line appeared and his mother didn't even bother to check if it was real. 'Three coffees, one white.'  
He had started to cover them more, especially as two more drink orders appeared before he turned 11. He wore sleeves most of the time, not wanting the other kids to notice how many marks there were. Still, as swimming lessions started in grade 4 and he was forced to wear a long arm warmer the teasing begun.  
He bore it well and soon enough and it never escalated into bullying. Instead, it just made him more selfconcious of the lines of text on his arm.  
When he was 12, the last line appeared, and he let out a soft bitter laugh. That line had nothing to do with coffee, nothing to do with anything. But he had a feeling when he heard it, he would either fall in love or die.

He tried to get a job at a legitimate cafe at 16, but he still had no taste for coffee and knew nothing about it. He had tried to show his marks to convince the owner that he would work hard and learn fast, but the owner's eyes had tightened as the first order was revealed.  
"Sorry kid, but you shouldn't work here."  
So he got a job at a restaurant, bussing tables and listening for the right orders. He forced himself to drink coffee until he liked it, though he would honestly prefer tea. He got his first job at a cafe at 17 and for three years threw all of his energy into it. He listened for those orders, listened hard, and at 20 years old finally had a man say the first phrase. "I need a goddamn coffee."  
He had froze, eyes going wide behind his glasses and blurted out. "Are you my soulmate?"  
The other man scowled more, dark eyes boring into him. "No. I already met mine. Now give me a goddamn coffee."  
Jack had froze up and one of the other workers had to step in and take over. As they finished up his boss had pulled him aside.  
"Are you okay?"  
He shook his head. "No... He was my soulmate."  
She shook her head, wrapping two heavily tattooed arms around him. She had met and lost her soulmate years ago, and had opted to cover the original soulmarks up. "No. His were visable. He just had one and it wasn't you."  
He had never realized it before, never realized a cafe worker he would inevitably hear the right words from the wrong people. He had been shook up by the revelation.  
The next day he put in his notice and looked for a different job. He worked gor a time in a department store, enjoing the days when he was posted in the toy and games section the most. He'd always enjoyed video games, but now they were an escape.  
But he hated working retail. He floated to manual labour after a while, working in construction, working in a warehouse, and even working a desk job before he found himself at 27 and still alone.  
He had five marks. He had five people out there meant to be with him, but it didn't make it any easier. He'd been waiting 21 years to hear them, waited 21 years for the connection to click into place, but they never happened.  
He had paniced a little, finding himself looking at his apartment one day and wondering if he was supposed to be happy.  
So he didn't even bother giving proper notice. He quit his job, he broke his rental agreement, he sold his furniture on the internet. He poured over a map and picked a new city at random. His finger landed on Achievement City and he only googled it enough to find driving directions. He stuffed what he could into his car, left a bunch behind in a donation bin, and drove away from his old life.  
He didn't bother to find an apartment until he was already there, slumming in the cheapest motel he could find. He sat at the desk, curtains open so he could keep an eye on his car out on the lot. The city was alive and dangerous, much different then his sleepy hometown, and he wasn't sure why that was so appealing. As it was, he had seen a gunfight go down on the highway just outside the city, and the first two gas stations he'd reached had been closed due to robberies.  
Still, something about the sight of the ocean and the mountain made him want to stay. Something about the city skyline, about the sky itself as it set over the water.  
He found a cheap apartment with pictures soon enough. It was immediately availible, just repainted, had a laundry hookup and there was a parking spot included in the rent. He called the number, agreeing to meet the owner there.  
He could only laugh when he pulled up to the building and saw a little cafe on the bottom floor, a little 'help wanted' sign in its window. He moved in that week and was working at the cafe three days later.  
He stopped listening for his soulmark words, stopped caring. One of the younger people there had confided in him that their mark was a coffee order, but it was elabourate, her arm covered in a request for a 'Soy Chai Latte with extra cinnamon, and a half pump of vanilla.' Another kid had lit up when he had been asked for a complex order of ten drinks, three muffins and a bagel and had filled it easily without the customer repeating it, before asking in a smooth voice for their number.  
Jack was 28 when he noticed someone saying his words again. It was 10:20 on a Tuesday, right between the morning rushes and Jack had already had three coffees in the 4 hours he'd already worked.  
Still, the other man looked twice as tired as him, heavily tattooed arms braced against the counter as if to hold him up. Jack had murmured a generic greeting as the man had approached, but something about his voice made him pause before getting him a large coffee and a extra large espresso, only charging him for the coffee.  
"Here." He said, "You look like you need it."  
The other, laughed, taking the coffee and shooting back the espresso like a real shot. "Thanks dude. I'm exhausted as dicks."  
The other was older, though Jack couldn't tell by how much. He was handsome though, in a alternative way, with a twirled mustache, hair messy and dark. His dark blues eyes swept over Jack, though they then swept over the other baristas.  
Jack forced himself to move on, giving the stranger a nod then stepping away to clean up the espresso machine. The other man had covered up his marks with tattooes, meaning he had already met his mate or mates.  
He couldn't be Jack's.  
It was the end of his shift when a man stumbled in from the rain. He was uncoordinated and nearly tripped over a chair on the way to the counter and Jack's first thought was to wonder if he was either a teen fresh out of a growth spurt or a drunk.  
The man gave him a sheepish grin as he approached though, and his face was slightly older. He was wearing a coat to big to be his own over a geeky shirt, large nose dripping with water.  
"Hi. What can I get started for you?" He asked.  
The man's eyes lit up and he rattled off in an excited english voice. "Three coffees, one white."  
Jack had to swallow hard, hands frozen over the register. "Three coffees, one white?"  
The other one sighed, suddenly looking a little put off to have to explain. "Yeah, white, coffee with some of that creamy stuff added in."  
"So a coffee with cream?" The older barista asked to clarify.  
"Yeah. Of course."  
Jack wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or amused as he rang the man in and then started to make the drinks.  
The other was on the phone by the time Jack turned around with the three drinks in a tray.  
"Yeah. I'd need access to his personal computer." The brit said, grabbing the tray and not even acknowledging Jack as he headed back out. "Ten minutes and I could drop the security system."  
Jack just went on break, suddenly emotionally exhausted, even though nothing had happened. The man had said his words, said them exactly, but it had to be a coincidence. A quick google search told him white coffee was a common way to order coffee in the UK and the guy sounded like he hadn't been in the US for long.  
He saw the mustached man once or twice more, the man charming if a little crude. They never exchanged numbers and Jack relaxed more with every interaction. The man's order had been a coincidence. He had his arms covered in tattoos and once mentioned a soulmate, just the one, when he asked if they sold any coffee that smelt like fart. "Its sort of an inside joke." The man said, eyes alight with mischief.  
Jack didn't mind letting the man smell every blend they had, before brewing it with just the right combination of syrup. "Here."  
The man grinned hard as he was passed the cup, giving it a quick sniff and a sip. "Tastes good but smells like shit. Thanks."  
The man left quickly with a wink, and as he left Jack wondered if it was jealousy twisting at his gut or loneliness.  
It was a late night shift when a redhead strolled into the cafe. His curly hair was barely contained by a black beanie, and his skin flushed from the uncommonly cold winter wind but he seemed energized, dressed in a black leather coat and dark jeans.  
"Hi, what can I get you?" Jack asked, unelegantly.  
"Three coffees, two hot chocolates." He rattled off, distractedly glancing back as another man stepped in. It was a tall man in another leather coat, his light hair tied back in a bun and traces of facepaint left on the edges of his face.  
"You're not getting anything for Gavin?" The other man asked the redhead once Jack had already rang them through and started the drinks.  
"Nah." The man said, voice sounding a little rough and annoyed. "Bitch won't drink coffee anymore after what Geoff gave him."  
They were quiet again after that, taking the two trays of drinks and leaving without a word.  
He wanted to chalk it all up to coincidence. He wanted to squash down the idea that those men were all his mates. That he was so close to not being alone anymore. Still, he was afraid to ask, afraid to ask complete strangers if they were part of a big, six way bond and if he was their missing link.  
But there were only four of them and only one of them seemed to have even noticed him as anything more than a cashier. The mustached man came in a few times a week, but he gave everyone those deep looks, and seemed to have a thing for baristas.  
He was nearly christmas when he finally heard the last phrases on his arm.  
It was late, too late, and he had been putting things away, getting ready to lock the doors and count out the register. Still, he suppressed a groan as a young man stepped in just as he was about to leave the counter. The man was wearing a bright purple hoody, with an even brighter pink sniper rifle attached to his back.  
Jack froze, all too aware that this was Achievement City and robberies happened more often than any other crime in the city. "Uhh.... Hi?" He said, hand reaching for his cellphone under the counter in case he'd need to call 911.  
"A large hot chocolate please." The man said brightly, sauntering up to the counter like he didn't have a splatter of blood on his jeans. He glanced up at the menu.  
"Is that everything?" He couldn't help but ask, not relaxing yet.  
"And a muffin." The man added, pointing to the last one in the display case. He was a little darker skinned, but Jack wasn't sure what ethnicity to consider him and he wondered if he would have to give a discription to the cops. The local ones were as corrupt as the crime lords though, and Jack couldn't see them coming for a description unless someone died... unless Jack died.  
His nerves were shot but his hands were steady as he made the drink and bagged the muffin, pleasantly surprised when the man passed him a twenty. Jack hadn't planned on asking for money, not wanting to anger the other man.  
The man gave him an even brighter smile as he passed back the change. It all wound up in the tip jar an Jack could only watch in confusion as the other walked over to a booth and pulled out a DS, slowly picking at his food and drink.  
He stayed behind the counter, not wanting to interrupt the other man, even as time ticked by. It was nearly a half hour before the lights began to dim, set on an automatic cycle, and the sniper glanced up from his game.  
"Something wrong with the lights?"  
"Sorry. They're on a timer." Jack said, heart rate increasing again. He hesitated before adding. "We're actually closed right now."  
"What?" The younger man glanced at his watch, then shot up, grabbing his garbage. "Sorry man, I had no idea it was so late. I wasn't-"  
The door opened again, letting in a man in a skull mask.  
Jack wasn't one to watch the news, wasn't one to pay attention to the various gangs in the area or try and attract trouble. But everyone knew about the man in the skull mask. Everyone knew he was one of the leaders of the Fake AH crew, the most notorious gang in all of Achievement City.  
"Did Geoff send you to look for me?" The young sniper asked, looking both apologetic and amused.  
"You were supposed to meet us at the bar, Ray." The skull masked man growled.  
"I know, but its not like I drink and I wanted to see what the fuss was about."  
Jack wondered if he could slip away while they were both distracted with each other. They could have the cafe, could take everything inside and set it on fire if they wanted. But if he stayed, he knew he wouldn't get a clean death.  
Instead, when he took a step towards the door, the Skull pulled a gun. "Not one more move. I'm not here to kill you but I will if I want to."  
Jack let go of his phone and let out a sigh before looking up at him with a bittersweet smile. "Then would you like a coffee? And lock the door, last thing I need is more armed men in the cafe."  
The other two froze, giving each other loaded glances. Jack' heart pounded in his ears, knowing that this could be his final moments or could be the start of never being alone ever again.  
Ray seemed to be able to read the other man's mind, nodding at the masked man before standing up to approach the counter. Jack took a step back involuntarily, pressing back against the shelves behind him. Still, the young man just hopped over the counter like it was nothing, moving closer to Jack and grabbing his arm with strong hands. He undid the button to Jack's black shirtsleeve and pulled back the fabric, exposing his marked arm to the air.  
"It is him." The sniper murmured in wonder, fingers tracing over the various coffee orders and final death threat. "Hes ours."  
The third man locked the door before tugging off his mask and approaching. Ray pulled Jack's arm over, holding it over the counter for the other to see. The other man was still wearing red, black and white facepaint, though Jack recognized the small bun on the back of his head.  
He was still holding the gun from before, but he shifted it to his other hand so he could reach up to trace the marks. Then with a growl, he grabbed Jack by the shirt and pulled him over the counter for a possessive kiss.  
"Ours."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER IS BETA-ED. It is now so beautiful that all the boys come to its yard. All because the fabulous Kayasaurus sorted through the whole things and edited the crap out of it.  
> This chapter is a certain gent's POV, but it's all about Jack really so I don't care.

The first night the five of them had spent together was Ray's eighteenth birthday. The lads had teased Geoff and Ryan about it, but the gents had been leery of consummating the bond before then. They were all murderers and assholes, and Ray hadn't been a child for years, but the idea of going further than kisses had sat wrong with them until he had been legal.

And so it was just at the end of Ray's eighteenth birthday (or possibly the day after) when they all finally were together and cuddling close enough for four of them to lift their arms up, comparing their marks.

They were all covered in words from their wrists to their elbows, and it was funny to see the differences in length between them all. The first mate they would meet was always closest to the wrist, with every line past it getting later and later.  
And now each only had one line to find.

Gavin glanced at Geoff, as always the first to ignore etiquette and go straight to rude questions.  
"What will they say to you?"

Geoff finally lifted his own arm, his words long since buried with ink and scars. It was beyond taboo to have covered them up when your mate was still living, let alone before you had met, but he still didn't regret his decision. It had caused issues, especially with Ryan and Michael, since he had no proof he was theirs, but he could never regret it

"Hi," He quoted, other hand going up to trace the inside of his elbow where the words had been. "What would you like?"

"So we're all going to meet him when he's working at a cafe?" Michael scoffed, face twisting into a familiar scowl. "These marks are useless."

"Well, at least Ryan will know for sure who he is," Ray pointed out. "I can't imagine many people offering coffee to 'armed men'."

"What would we do with a barrister soulmate," Ryan asked. "Even if we did find him, he wouldn't survive long with us."  
The others paused, before Gavin snorted. "Did you mean barista?"  
"Shut up," Ryan had growled and suddenly a wrestling match had begun, ending the way things always did when you were naked in bed with your soul mates.  
\---  
Geoff had thought about their missing sixth for years. He had gotten his marks early, before even Ryan had been born and for the first two decades of his life he had eagerly waited to meet them.  
Then he had joined the army and he had seen what people could do if they knew where your weak points were.

He had been screwed up afterwards. Had barely believed it when Ryan had spoken his words and Ryan was just as paranoid. For two months they had avoided acknowledging anything and it turned into some twisted allies-with-benefits thing that had only ended when they had run into the sniper Brownman and realized he was just a 16 year old kid with their words on his arm. Then they had to admit things to themselvesand they had to form together. Because even though Ray was just as corrupted as them, even though Ray was just as deadly as them, he has still retained some innocence. And even though Geoff and Ryan had known their world was no place for the naïve, they took him in anyways.

Next was Michael, the guy who had stuck to breaking and entering and fistfights before finding himself a part of their family and stepping up as a general badass. And then came Gavin, the British asshole who was a mixture of tech skills and general clumsiness.

But now they were waiting for their last mate. A mate that would most likely be a civilian and defenceless. Not all of them had been killers to start, but they were all predators, they were all more selfish and strong than empathetic or considerate. They killed rival gangs yes, but they would also kill cashiers if a robbery was going bad. They would also kill hostages to prove a point.  
Their sixth was going to be a cashier. Their sixth would be used as a hostage against them if anyone found out.

But still, Geoff found himself prowling every coffeeshop he could, flirting with any barista that caught his eyes and looking for a sign that they could be the one. What he wasn't expecting was to stumble into a coffee shop at dawn, having made the mistake of drinking until 3:30 am on the night before a meeting. The only thing that had registered about the barista at first was his giant beard.

"Hi," The other man had said, sounding exhausted. "What would you like?"

Geoff froze, peering at him with red eyes and resisting the urge to double check it wasn't Ryan hiding under all that hair. The voice was remarkably similar. Still too exhausted and hungover to realize the significance of it all, he managed to plead "I need a goddamn coffee." And then as the man's eyebrows rose in surprise or in amusement (Geoff couldn't tell which beneath all the beard) Geoff's heart skipped a beat.

This was his soulmate.

The man turned away to make Geoff's drink, giving the gang leader a chance to mentally panic. It could be their mate, it could be their missing sixth…

But he had wasted their first meeting. Usually he would have had a unique quip in there or maybe his own name, and instead he had countered his own terrifically bland soulmark with another. If this was his mate, and they had been the only two, it would have been a cause for panic. As it were, he just accepted the coffee and the bonus espresso with a charming grin and glanced over his potential mate once more.  
He was big, but surprisingly soft looking, his face a little too jolly and his glasses making him look even more harmless. He was benign like most civilians, his eyes focusing on Geoff's moustache and tattoos rather than noticing the firearms barely hidden by his clothes. A quick glance confirmed the other baristas were just as vanilla, though they seemed a bit more artsy alternative than the redhaired Santa in front of him.

And damn, he'd never thought someone so jolly looking could be so attractive.

He tipped well, left with a wink, and was already planning on sending one of the others up that afternoon to see if the Santa barista would say their words too. His mistake was sending Gavin.

"He said the words," The Brit pouted, carrying a tray of coffees. "But the bloody minge didn't even know what a white coffee was."

"Gavin," Geoff started patiently. "I don't even know what a white coffee is. You can't hold it against him that you make up words."

"It was the first thing I said to him," Gavin said resolutely. "If he was our mate he would have had it written on his arm. He would have looked it up by now."

"He's got a point," Ray said from his position further down the couch, bent over a laptop. "He would have googled that sort of thing by now right, especially as a barista."

"Or maybe it's just cause Gavin makes no sense to anyone," Michael pointed out.

Gavin squawked out some nonsense to defend himself, with words that sounded more and more made up, but in the end he somehow won

"Red Santa isn't our match," Ray said, as if it finalize it.  
\---  
It felt like karma when Geoff was able to enlist 'Red Santa' in a prank against Gavin a few weeks later. Geoff kept going to that cafe, kept seeing their mysterious barista and if he thought it was meant to happen he would have told him right away and dragged him to their penthouse apartment to be their stay at home husband. As it was, no one else believed him and Michael at the very least was supposed to meet him at the cafe, possibly Ryan too. He had been excited when Michael came home one day with a tray of cups from the cafe, Ryan right behind him with another.

"We met red Santa," Michael said with a shrug. "I'm on Gavin's side. No way he's ours."

Geoff felt his heart plummet. "What? He didn't say your words?"

"Of course he said them. So does every cashier in town. I think the pizza guy said the exact same thing on the phone last night. But the guy is a marshmallow. There's no way he'd be ours."

"Was that a fat joke?" Ray asked with a grin.

"No," Michael said. "But the guy fucking looks like Santa. It isn't a joke."

"So we could get our jollies on with old Saint Nicholas?" The Puerto Rican asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Geoff just sighed, sitting down on the couch and feeling all of his 35 years bearing down on him. Maybe they were right, maybe he wasn't theirs.

Before he knew it, Christmas was coming up and they planned a giant heist to fund their Christmas bonuses. It went perfectly, especially since this time they had checked in advance to make sure the bank was actually open, and afterwards Geoff rented a full bar for them and their underlings.

Ray and Ryan had disappeared soon after the heist, but since neither ever drank much, Geoff wasn't too surprised. They would surface when they were ready (or when the sun came back up and the rest of them needed a ride back to their pad).

He had found a private booth and some booze that probably wasn’t legal (it looked like it had a real snake in it) and was sitting between Gavin and Michael as Gavin came up with stupid scenarios and Michael alternated between shooting them down and texting Ray. Gavin had texted him too at first but after a little too much to drink, he was now more occupied with burying himself in Geoff's coat while the gent was still in it.

Michael suddenly made a strange noise, like a startled animal, and dropped the phone. Drunk or not, Gavin was always a shit stirrer, and so before the phone could even settle he had snatched it up, staring at it with bleary eyes.

"Whasis say?" He asked Geoff, before lightly tapping the screen against his nose.

"Hey, you fucker," Geoff grumbled, not really angry as he took the phone to read the message. "PAY UP, MOTHERFUCKERS," He crowed, grinning ear to ear. "I WAS RIGHT!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much love to Kayasaurus for being my new beautiful beta. She sorted through this chapter already and is going to be tackling the horribleness of chapter 2 soon. Please give her all your love. If you somehow missed me posting chapter 2.... skip it for now. Seriously its rough.
> 
> I'll repeat this part at the bottom so more people can see this and for the people who just wanna get to the good part but I WILL be continuing this in a new story which will cover Jack's transition from underpaid barista to the partner of the five most wanted men in the city. I wanted to cut this story off here for everyone who just wants a short fic with a happy ending.  
> The other fic will be much more realistic, cover deep issues, have violence, gore, death, (smut?), and may make you need to hold a fluffy baby animal for a while. To make up for that I will also be posting random little one shots and crack centered around Jack. If you ever need to read the stupidist things ever, click on the crackfics. I guarantee they're bad and probably unbetaed since I'm not that big of a monster to ask someone to try and make sense of my brainfart headcannons.
> 
> If you're still reading this, thanks for being so awesome. I love you all dearly and feel free to give me requests (Seriously, I love them. I will take anything.)  
> I'll be posting a few stupid oneshots before I get to the sequel but keep an eye out. Now enjoy the fic and feel free to skip the end notes.

Jack tried not to flinch when he slid into their car and noticed a shotgun strapped to the back of the driver’s seat, a few bullet holes in the leather seats. He’d left work with it all unfinished, the money still in the register, but it was hard to care as he felt Ray slide in next to him.The puerto rican gave him a cocky grin. “Just so you know, we’re all going to have a big gay orgy tonight.”

“Ray…” Ryan said from the driver’s seat, sounding fondly exasperated. Ray laughed, completely at ease as he leaned into Jack’s side.

It was surprisingly comfortable, being alone in the car with the two near strangers. Even with the stock of Ray’s bright pink rifle digging in right behind his hip, and Ryan’s face covered by that terrifying mask, he felt at ease. Outside was a wash of colors, the city lit up by billboards and streetlamps, looking almost garish. He had never gone out at night if he could help it, knowing Achievement City was considered a crime city, but he regretted it a little as he saw Mount Chilliad in the distance, so dark and beautiful. He was not sure where they were headed, Ray and Ryan having dragged him away from work so fast he was still wearing the stupid red apron he worked in. 

Jack’s neck prickled, making him glance forward. He was surprised when his eyes met Ryan’s, the man watching him through the reflection on his rear view mirror.

“So… Just a heads up,” Ray said, with a small snicker. “I think the others are loaded.”

“Even Michael?” Ryan asked. Ray shrugged.

They pulled into one of the more expensive areas in town, the kind where the cops didn’t turn a blind eye to things. The skyline was swallowed by buildings, Ryan pulling into the largest. There was a selection of garage doors, to Jack’s confusion, but Ryan pulled up to the first, hitting the remote on his keychain to make the door pop open.

Inside was a ramp, leading up a floor to an indoor garage. The massive room was brightly lit and white, so white for a moment it felt like they were driving into a showroom. The vehicles inside were all either ridiculously expensive or just ridiculous. There was some sort of old black car painted with a garish green symbol. 

He just focused on sliding out of the beat up car they had arrived in. He didn’t quite know what to do with himself in there. Clinging to what sense of normalcy he could, he slipped off his apron and balled it up under his arm. The familiar scent from coffee brewing wafted up at him and he wasn’t sure anymore if he was awake.

“That’s my bifta,” Ray said, pointing to a vehicle that looked more like a go cart than an actual car. “The Roosevelt is Michael’s… The rest everyone shares.”

Jack glanced around, feeling more and more self conscious as he realized that these all belonged to the other five men. There was an adder, a infernus…. a T20….

“What do you drive?” A vaguely familiar voice asked.

“I drive a 2002 Blista,” He admitted, glancing at the men standing at a doorway that had to lead to the elevator.

His eyes first settled on the most familiar face. It was the one he had met first, the guy who had wanted the fart coffee. He looked perfectly put together and yet drunk, dressed in what looked to be a designer tux and mustache expertly twirled. It was weird to see him dressed so formally, especially since he had a bottle of amber colored liquid in one tattooed hand. He was leaning against the wall a little, and Jack would have bet that it was just to keep his balance but at the same time the man was obviously a leader. He was flushed, but his eyes were sharp and smug.

The man next to him was more obvious in how drunk he was. The lad’s hair was messy, though it seemed to be half on purpose, and his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing a stretch of tanned skin. He had been the one to order a white coffee and he seemed to pout a little as he took Jack in.

The last man was the redhead, and Jack belatedly realized that on that day, the guy who had accompanied the lad had been Ryan.

“Look!” Ray said. “We brought a friend.”

The redhead almost seemed to grimace looking at Jack. He was much softer looking than the other two, with thick curls and a gentle frame, but he almost seemed the most dangerous. His eyes were burning and his cheekbones were sharp.

“Jack, right?” The oldest stepped forward, still looking smug and yet delighted. He reached out as if to shake hands. “I’m Geoff, the leader of these assholes.”

“I’m Gavin,” The british lad behind him added, meaning that the last guy had to be Michael.  
Jack reached out to shake Geoff’s hand, surprised to be pulled into a hug instead.

“What took you so long?” The other man asked, smelling like spice beneath the scent of alcohol. “Damn dude, you took your goddamn time.”

“Sorry,” He said, surprised to find himself hugging back. “Didn’t mean to take so long.” A thin frame pressed against their side and Gavin’s flushed face pressed into Jack’s neck. Jack didn’t hesitate before moving his arm to pull the wiry brit in too. They were all surprisingly solid to the touch, shaped from their wild careers.  
He let out a sigh, closing his eyes and knowing it was too late for him to go. He knew it was wrong to enjoy the company of killers, that they were more dangerous than he could imagine but as the others gathered in closer, he felt his throat unclench. His shoulders relaxed, his head cleared and he felt young again, as young as he should have felt

“Group hug!” Ray called out, practically pouncing on them all.  
\---  
Michael still hadn’t spoken by the time they reached the elevator. The redhead stayed separate from them all, even in the confined space. They lived in the penthouse suite, though Jack had almost expected it after seeing their cars. He wanted to freeze again at the door. It wasn’t so much as to admire the furniture, or at the view of the city, but to ask himself why he was theirs.

Their apartment cost more than what he would make in his whole lifetime. Honestly, he was a minimum wage barista, surviving on tips and careful budgeting. He had felt proud to own a new TV, a 37 inch flat screen which would look like a iphone next to their massive 75 inch wall mount. He did not know how to act, what to do. He almost felt like he should be watching it though a window or on a screen, like it was some tv special about people spending too much money on a renovation.

Gavin and Ray dragged him to the couch, and suddenly he was noticing the scuff marks on the corner of the table, the bag of weed on the counter, the wiimote on the table, held together by electrical tape even though they had to be able to buy a new one. This was a home. This was their home. 

“Jack…” Gavin was pulling back his sleeve, and Jack’s breath hitched as clumsy fingers traced his marks. “Are you a bloody idiot?”

He frowned, but couldn’t find it in him to get angry. Especially not as Gavin stayed half cuddled on top of him, looking tipsy and ruffled up like a kitten. “What makes you ask that?” 

“You had my order on your arm,” The brit said, scowling even as he caressed the words. “You had the words and you never looked up what they meant.”

“I knew I’d be able to find out what you meant when you said it,” He shrugged, “It's never good to overanalyze your words.”

Gavin smiled a little sheepishly. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” He rolled up his own sleeve, pointing to the third line on his arm. ‘Yeah I can believe that. Damn.’ He gave a sheepish smile. “I thought it was gunna be a rejection, but Geoff is top.”

Jack’s eyes landed on the first line, the one closest to Gavin’s wrist and he glanced at Michael, knowing that the words had to be his. The quiet redhead was in the kitchen, pouring out straight rum to drink.  
“Michael worries,” Ray said directly into Jack’s ear. “Just give him time.” Ryan and Geoff finally sat beside them, Ryan’s face cleared of paint. He was handsome, with a surprisingly kind face. 

“So you any good at video games?"  
\---  
They settled in with Super Mario World, Geoff being a total asshole with the platforms. Michael came over eventually, sitting on Ryan's other side. Soon enough the older man was surrendering his controller to Michael and just watched them play. Jack offered Ryan his controller once, but he just shook his head with a smile.

With Michael playing, everything was better again. Soon enough the redhead was talking, even if most of what was coming out of his mouth were angry little lines about Gavin, Geoff, and the game in general. It was nearly dawn by the time Jack started to lose the war against sleep. In the back of his mind, he knew he had work in just an hour or so, but he hesitated before bringing it up.

"I need to go home and go to work."

"No you don't," Geoff said. "Call in sick. We all need to get some sleep and then talk."

"I can't just call in sick," Jack said. "I didn't even close up properly last night."

"All the more reason to do it," Geoff said, "You're dead on your feet."

Jack didn't want to go to work. He was exhausted, he was underpaid, and to be honest, the idea of being a barista for the rest of his life made him a little woozy. Or perhaps the wooziness was from the beer he had drank while playing.

"Hi, this is Jack," Jack heard behind him, turning to see Ryan on his phone, no doubt talking to Jack's boss. "Sorry, I got sick while closing up last night and I'm just feeling worse this morning." Ryan sounded sick, managing a raspy voice while also sounding far too harmless.

"I'll get a note while I'm at the doctors," He offered, and Michael rolled his eyes before sending out a text to someone.

"Come on," Geoff said, "They got this."

The oldest man lead them back towards the only closed door in the penthouse, what undeniably had to be the bedroom. Inside was much different then he was expecting.

There was two king sized platform beds shoved together in the middle, covered in a massive mattress that had to be custom. There were pillows everywhere, like they all didn't always sleep facing the same way. One full wall was made up of a row of 4 walk in closets, and there was a wide 6 drawer dresser on the wall beside the door. Otherwise the room was mostly empty, and as Gavin fiddled with the light switches, curtains slid out from the wall and spread out along the length of the windows.

"We're all going to sleep together?" Jack realized out loud.

"Yeah. But just sleep," Ray said. "We're all tired and you haven't picked a safe word yet. Mine is Cake."

Jack chuckled, watching Ray and Gavin slip into the same closet to get changed. A different set of arms wrapped around him from behind. "You think he's joking."

"He's not?" Jack tilted his head so he could see Geoff out of the corner of his eye. The moustache tickled Jack's neck as Geoff nuzzled into it. Jack reached up to cover Geoff's arms with his own, but his hands were shaken off and suddenly the older man was undoing the buttons of Jack's shirt. Jack was wearing a grey sleeveless undershirt beneath, but the room was colder than he had expected. Geoff was now kissing along his neck, pausing to leave a mark that would be barely hidden by the collar of Jack's shirts.

"You're so warm," Geoff murmured, pressing even closer. His fingers skimmed along Jack's sides, teasing his skin.

"Geoff," Gavin said, peeking out. "Leave him be, we should sleep."

"Fine," The gent said, pulling away from Jack. "Strip down. You’ll melt if you wear more than your underwear to bed.

Jack slipped off to the side , feeling a bit awkward as he started to strip. He had thankfully just bought new boxers, though they were the cheap Walmart kind and not as flattering as he would have liked. Gavin and Ray were coming back out, both in just their boxers. Even from a distance he could tell they were expensive, looking soft and silky, especially against Ray's slightly darker skin.

They were handsome, with the hint of muscle on their lean bodies. However, they were scarred, covered in old slashes and even bullet holes, Gavin having a scar across his stomach like he'd been gutted, the flesh jaggedly cut.

Gavin came over to Jack, grinning and finally stealing a soft chaste kiss. Calloused hands came up to tangle in his beard and Jack reached out to grip Gavin's hips when the younger man began to pull away. They stayed like that for a moment, just pressed close together, sharing air.

"Come on," Geoff said, already climbing into bed. "Jack you're going in the middle, so if you need to piss or shit do it now so you don't need to try and get up later."  
Jack nodded, pausing to kiss Gavin again before pulling free to head to the bathroom. There was an unopened toothbrush packet on the counter, next to the tray already holding 5 other brushes. There was a few different bottles left out, and he flushed when he realized one of the ones perched on the bathtub was lube.

His reflection looked exhausted, but he hadn't felt so alive in years. He could see a lovemark already bruising on his neck from Geoff, the rest of his skin pale and freckled. The tanlines around his wrists were subtle, but he wasn't sure if they would remain. Now the marks had been fulfilled. Now they just showed that he belonged with the five men that owned the penthouse... That owned the city with their gang.

"You should really think about leaving," Michael appeared in the doorway, meeting Jack's eyes though the reflection in the mirror. "You know who we are, right? You know what we do."

"I do," He nodded, turning to face the redhead. Michael was still fully dressed and Jack felt too exposed suddenly, the skin of his arm prickling. He didn't cover his arm though, or let himself shiver. Because now that he was face to face with Michael in the too bright lights of the bathroom, he could see the fear in the other's eyes.

"The others are excited that we finally found you but they're dumb as fuck," The other continued. "You're not meant to be part of this. You're not meant to be part of us. You're a liability. You're weak."

Jack just smiled, grabbing Michael by the shoulder and pulling him in for a hug. The other barely resisted, but Jack knew if he hadn't wanted the hug Jack wouldn't have been able to get him to budge.

"We will all be fine," The bearded man said softly. "We will find a way. We all found each other, that has to mean something ."

"Marks don't guarantee that we'll be fine," Michael snapped. "It just guarantees that when you get fucked up because of us... When you die because of us, the rest of us will feel a thousand times crappier."

"I'm not going to get hurt," Jack reassured him. "I'm not sure how this is going to work, but it's going to."

"You can't know that," Michael said, pushing him away.

"I can," Ryan said in the doorway. "We can keep him safe."

"Or we could be the reason people go after him in the first place."  
The others were coming back out from the bedroom, all three looking a little surprised at how livid Michael was getting. Suddenly, Jack was hit by the realization that Michael didn't want him. That Michael wanted to end things before they started.

"I'm not leaving," Jack said firmly. "Whether you want me around or not, I'm not leaving. It won't be your fault if something happens, I'm an adult and I'm making my own decision."

The younger man shook his head. "I was like you. Before I met Ray I was on the right side of the law. I was a security guard. And when I joined this family I changed. I let myself be the kind of person who survives in this world. And I don't regret it, but I only survived because I was strong and I was adaptable. You're a marshmallow, all soft and squishable."

"Was that a fat joke?" Jack frowned.

"That's what I said," Ray tried to joke, but it fell flat.

"One day you'll be pushed too far," Michael said. "Just as I was. You'll be given the choice to either kill or die and I don't think you'd be able to do it."

"I'd kill," Jack said firmly. "I'm not that much of a pushover."

"And that's worse sometimes," He gave him a bittersweet smile. "It's what keeps us all up at night. You don't get to live like this and stay intact."

"There's a lot of ways to lose your mind," He said. "But I'd rather lose it by your side then lose it alone."

It seemed like that had been finally too much, and Michael finally gave in, moving forward to pull Jack in for a hard kiss. He was all passion, just as fiery as his hair. "That was fucking cheesy," He murmured as they parted. "Are you actually a hallmark card?"

"No," He chuckled, enjoying the chance to just hold the other against him.

They all exchanged kisses before bed, and it was obvious the others had a pattern to it, so that the 5 of them could exchange kisses without any of them waiting more than once. Jack could only watch in amusement, until it was Ray's turn to wait and the sniper pulled Jack in for a kiss instead, grinning smugly. "Now we can have a system so that no one ever has to wait. We're evenly numbered."

That made everything get sidetracked as Gavin realized Jack "owed" him kisses and suddenly Geoff was in the middle of it all, trying to grope Jack as he mentioned even better ways to use his mouth, just to make him flush. By the time they did crawl into bed, it felt natural, Jack in the middle between Ray and Gavin while Geoff and Michael took the outside and Ryan stayed behind Geoff.  
"Ryan doesn't sleep. So don't be surprised if he gets back up soon," Ray said, staring at Jack with soft eyes. There was a ledge on the headboard for their glasses, and Jack wasn't surprised to notice some handguns stashes just below them.  
"I'll sleep," The skull murmured, voice oddly soft. "I'll sleep now." And Jack couldn't help but smile as he closed his eyes, buried in between warm bodies and arms and soft sheets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Repeat of the above notes for those who missed them or skipped them to get to the wibbly parts:  
> I WILL be continuing this in a new story which will cover Jack's transition from underpaid barista to the partner of the five most wanted men in the city. I wanted to cut this story off here for everyone who just wants a short fic with a happy ending.  
> The other fic will be much more realistic, cover deep issues, have violence, gore, death, (smut?), and may make you need to hold a fluffy baby animal for a while. To make up for that I will also be posting random little one shots and crack centered around Jack. If you ever need to read the stupidest things ever, click on the crackfics. I guarantee they're bad and probably unbetaed since I'm not that big of a monster to ask someone to try and make sense of my brainfart headcannons.
> 
> If you're still reading this, thanks for being so awesome. I love you all dearly and feel free to give me requests (Seriously, I love them. I will take anything.)  
> I'll be posting a few stupid oneshots before I get to the sequel but keep an eye out.


End file.
